The New Day Bleeds
by Vivsien
Summary: It was the perfect world, the kind she would have wanted... Except for the him being a child bit. That was just something he thought he deserved.


x

_Punishment and redemption are not the same, but punishment is easiest; _  
_so much so that sometimes you end up thinking it is enough._

X

There were no classes that day and, per usual, Umino Iruka sat behind his classroom desk anyway. Paperwork couldn't fill itself out (and it probably wouldn't even if it could) and the young chuunin often found himself whittling away at documents. If it wasn't teaching-related, then it was for administration.

He sighed, pulling another sheet from the stack at his elbow.

Sometimes he regretted putting a cork in his trouble-making past. The reading alone made him want to take a page from Tora the Devil Cat's book and just go AWOL.

It was as Iruka was falling back into the daze of mindless deskwork that he noticed something beyond the light scritch of his pencil: sniffling, like someone fighting a runny nose. He frowned and looked up, not exactly startled but certainly caught off guard by the child sitting in the front row. The boy looked to be eight and was angled towards the windows, wiping ferociously at his face and, just as it sounded, fighting a runny nose.

There were many questions that he probably should have asked, that a practical shinobi would have asked (where are your parents? Who are you? What are you doing here? Howdidyougetin?), but Iruka found himself standing instead, the question, "why are you crying?" already slipping from his mouth.

The boy's hands froze for barely a second before he angled further away, wiping his cheeks with renewed vigor. But it was too late too hide and the little boy seemed to realise that as the chuunin stopped on the other side of the table he was sitting at.

"I'm crying because I'm sad," the boy managed, frustration lending his voice volume.

Iruka didn't take it personally. Of course, he was rather busy trying to process that claim. "Sad," the young man repeated. Saying it was as strange as seeing a polar bear in a bikini on a tropical beach. That is to say, it didn't seem anything less than ridiculous. After all, there had only been joy here in the Balanced Lands, since the five elements had made peace.

Had the words not come from the mouth of a child, Iruka would have dubbed the speaker a liar. As it was, he was sure there was some sort of misunderstanding and said as much. "Are you sure that's the word you're looking for?" He asked, taking on the light tone that had become second nature after years of dealing with melodramatic youths.

The boy looked at him like he was an idiot. In fact, upon being focused on with that incredulous, bloodshot gaze, _'are you an idiot?'_ had been exactly the sort of response Iruka was expecting to receive.

"But I _am_ sad," the boy said instead.

Iruka couldn't help the small smile as he crouched down to the child's eye level. "Look outside," he said, turning and gesturing to the windows. "It's a clear day and there isn't a single cloud in sight. The sky is happy and you have no reason to be sad."

It was true, there was not a speck of silver or white to be seen, but this didn't seem to make the boy happy. If anything, it drew that same look from before, the one that questioned how Iruka was capable of breathing let alone speaking.

In lieu of voicing those thoughts, the child shook his head three times, dark hair bouncing with the motion. "There are no clouds in the sky," he said slowly, as if to a particularly dim-witted individual, "because my family is dead. There is a reason to be sad."

It was a bright day. That was it. The chuunin sensei looked at the sky and tried to imagine what it would be like to believe such morbid words. He couldn't. The claim wasn't at all sensical, but his young companion clearly believed it and Iruka decided it best not to argue. Instead, he pointed at the windows again. "But look at the brilliant flowers and autumn leaves," he said gently. "See how red they are? See how they love the sun and cloudless sky? Aren't they beautiful?"

The boy looked and nodded slowly. "They are beautiful," he grudgingly admitted.

Iruka smiled and nodded as well. "If the world is happy, then there is no reason to be sad," he declared, making to stand.

But the child blinked, brow furrowing above mismatched eyes as he said, "the flowers and leaves are red with the blood of sacrifice. That is definitely a reason to be sad."

It was a decidedly weird statement for an eight year old to make, but Iruka ignored it in favour of thinking about all of the work he still had to do and about how terrible it was for someone, much less a child, to be feeling anything less than contentment in this day and age. Pausing for only a heartbeat, the chuunin focused his gaze to a point beyond the window panes and pointed for the third time. "Look there."

The boy did as told, following the indicated line of sight to the street beyond the Academy walls, where a woman walked by with her family.

"Don't they look happy?" Iruka asked.

The woman's purple tattoos stretched with her grin and the baby in her arms shifted, silver hair catching the sunshine. The man beside them smiled too, dark eyes focused on the pretty woman. The boy watched this and even though the light fell in strong, brilliant rays, it would grow dim in comparison upon reaching her smile.

When the family had passed out of sight, the boy turned to the patiently waiting Iruka with a simple, "yes, they do."

The chuunin sensei did not continue as he had with the previous examples, already knowing the family's image had far from helped.

"Alright," Iruka said, determination settling his expression as he stood. There were no protests when he reached over the table to lift the child up and into his arms. Though his young companion did look fairly irritated when, seconds later, the pair found themselves hanging out one of the windows with the chuunin sensei twisting to point directly up. "See that?" he asked.

The boy nodded, looking faintly perplexed as he angled to follow the gesture.

"Before the Balanced Lands," Iruka said, slipping into lecture mode, "there was grief and death, killers and victims. We were nations at war with everyone and ourselves. We knew we weren't happy and we knew we were making the same mistakes, breeding the same sufferings, over and over again. But then," he waved both hands upwards, "this changed.

"The New Day struck and we have had peace. Peace throughout the _entire world_. We all work together now, we feed and help each other. What is there to possibly be unhappy about?"

The boy chuckled but it was an awkward, humourless sound and Iruka looked down to find that the child had fixated on where they'd last seen that family of three.

"I guess you're right," came the murmured words. "I really shouldn't be sad, should I? This is exactly what she always wanted: a perfect world."

The chuunin sensei ignored the odd look in the odd child's eyes, choosing to smile because he'd done it, he'd convinced him. Everyone was happy again. The smile broadened to a grin and Iruka specifically ignored the sniffling at his side. The poor kid probably had a cold.

Looking up at the cloudless heavens, rich and as red as the old sunsets, Iruka's gaze lingered on that apex of the sky, where the sun had once sat during midday. It wasn't there anymore of course, but he'd never been one for that whole 'bright, yellow, ball of fire' thing anyway. He remembered that day very well, when red had bled through the blue sky and peace had bled through the ravaged land. It had been the dawn of a better tomorrow and the death of pained yesterdays.

Vaguely noticing the child was gone but feeling largely unresponsible for him, Iruka sat back down at his desk and picked up his pencil with a final, muttered affirmation of: "red or blue sky doesn't matter to me, but I'll pick a red moon over a yellow sun anyday."


End file.
